Pandemonium
by Ganimyde
Summary: One night at the Pandemonium Fortress, a sorceress discovers Tyreal has a "gossip" feature. K for drinking and, well, Act IV. Slightly spoofy with that Diablo fun. Revolves around Cain n Tyreal.


Yeah, i can't believe it, either. A _Diablo II_ fic. O_o; But I love that game, why not? They do write books off of games like these. I could do it, given that this went pretty well. I hope you enjoy it, too! :) And, as always, let me know what you think :D I love lolling at this game, like, "If I _really _was going down to Hell, do you think I'd need more assurance than a short cut-scene and red portal? oh yes." And, "If the jug is empty,and in the desert, _who keeps trapping it with fire_?!"

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**Fandom**: Diablo II (computer game)

**Title**: Pandemonium (because, face it, it's Diablo love, it doesn't need a decent name--most of the other players didn't have one. XD)

**Rating**: PG (for drinking references and some religio-philosophic thoughts. Not too many though! :D )

**Genre**: Spoof, dark humor. It's mostly people talking and drinking and staring at holy bajeezus, _Hell_. XD

**Main Characters**: Deckard Cain and Tyreal. (It came from Cain being so Lol-worthy, and something Tyreal says when you "gossip" with him in Act IV.)

**Warnings: **OCs (b/c, well, Diablo--come on now.) : Sorceress character. You'll lol at the name. :P

**Word Count**: ~2000

**Summary**: One night at the Pandemonium Fortress, a sorceress realizes Tyreal has a "gossip" feature.

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**Diablo II: Pandemonium**

The Pandemonium Fortress was not somewhere known for its good drinks, despite the fact that everyone needed it---and badly. In the constant heat of the hungry lava that churned and growled like a hungry stomach and sent up the screams of desperate souls, the usual was lack of appetite for food and far too much need for strong drinks. Not that it mattered. Everything tasted terrible here anyway, going along with the acrid stench of buring flesh, both human and demon alike.

"Ahhh, I miss Kurast," the hero said, taking a sip as she sat against one ancient cobble wall on the edge of the fortress. The sorceress looked up at the red sky, and the memory of the damp dark of the forest came acutely back. "Wait, no I don't. It rained all the time and there were all those gremlin things.... I can still hear the giggling, ugk."

She downed another quaff of malt and tipped her head against the slightly cooler stone.

"Ahhh, I miss Lut Gohlein..." She tipped her head and watched a broken soul bubble up from the lava below the fortress's walls, disappear into a burst of fire and scream she could not hear. "Ah, actually, it was really hot there...and the whole underground was overrun by demons. Yeah, I don't miss Lut Gohlein either. . . ."

She shrugged and threw back more of the brew, whatever the hell it was. "I miss the encampment. There were girls. And Atma had good beer."

She sighed and tipped the mug, its brownish half of a draught in contents, and then raised her hand to Laney. "Thanks lady."

Laney, rummaging through her toolbox, just raised one gloved hand and then continued digging. The sorceress sighed and looked around the levels of the comparably tiny fortress's upper deck. The other sellers were busy, and the rest of the adventurers were conferring over gems and spells or what have you. No one that just wanted to sit and deal. Admire the meaning of the view.

Slowly, peering around the wall and up the steps, wincing a little from the bruised and scortched side, she eyed the two figures up the stairs. All she could see were their feet--or rather, the hem of grey robes and the edge of several trails of glowing light.

There were no actual feet to be seen, ... which meant the two were free. And Cain was always good for a laugh, doddering old bookish type as he was.

The sorceress known as Zippy raised to her feet, and ambled over. A Horradrim and an _angel_. It was still a bit much. Though, granted, she was standing in _Hell _right now, so there shouldn't have been much that was a surprise anymore.

Tyreal and Deckard Cain were actually chatting, it seemed, Cain just on the edge of the whispy wings, a little closer than anyone else would stand. The things definitely looked like they could melt you, if the man--angel--..._thing_--felt like it. And he might, that one Paladin was a jackass.

Though...if you got killed in Hell...?

"Hey Tyreal, hey Cain," she said, over the edge of her jug.

"Hello again!" said Deckard, the smile going all the way to the many lines in his eyes.

"Greetings, young sorceress, blessed be that you have returned," the bronze-clad angel's strong voice rang out. She couldn't see his face beyond the cowl, still wondered if there really was one under there (and all the implications of that), but she had the distinct impression "he" was ... happy. Like, amused happy, beyond just seeing her again. (Like any one of them mattered to the cause, yeah that was a laugh. Hundreds went through here a day, and never came back. At least that she could tell.)

When the little tingles from the voice's power wore off, Zippy took another drink and then held it out to the old man. "Beer, Cain?" She asked, but he waved it off with a guffaw. Zippy looked at the mouth of the container, and then, slowly, cocked her jaw a little.

"Hey Tyreal, you wanna beer?"

He tipped his head a little, the metal clinking slightly. For not the first time, she wondered if it must have been enchanted. It didn't glow like enchanted materials, but it sure as hell was shiny for such a brassy alloy. And that black space in his face, how did that _work_?--

"That is quite all right," Tyreal answered, voice booming even though it wasn't. It echoed, kind of, and she wasn't sure if it was just the chamber or not. "Your human drinks would have no effect on me," he added, somewhat lamenting.

"They got good stuff up in the beyond? Magic drink for magic things?"

Somehow, she got the impression Tyreal was smiling. Something psychic, perhaps. She had gotten a lot of swag this time out with telepathy, it was true.

"You could say that."

"I ... see." Zippy gave him a long look, and wondered if she could finagle a way for him to say "Zippy" someday. One of these days....

She looked out onto the vista, through the open arches and onto the reddened sky. There was no sun, but the sky was always lit bright.

Come to think of it, the angel stayed in a shadow, in the farthest-back corner of the upper level. He probably had a penchant for high places, if not just a phobia of closed ones, but something about the light here....

Well, there was the fact that it was Hell, okay, granted there was that. But no one had incinerated yet.

Unless they fell in the lava.

Or got caught by the trapped souls.

Or mauled by the beasts, then they kind of crumbled. And probably ended up in the lava, too. After the souls crawled over and gnawed on them a little.

"Quite the view, is it not?" Tyreal asked, suddenly. The sorceress glanced back at him, and then nodded.

"Yeah." She took a breath before going for the alcohol again, and it felt like she was _breathing _that red. It nearly seared.

"It is the same view from the gates Above," Tyreal said. "Just reversed."

"And full of fuc---er, lava," she added. And then looked around quickly, as if lightening would descend. And not hers, unfortunately.

Her glance fell on Cain, wandering away to talk to someone who had brought in a savage-and absolutely ridiculous-looking spiked club that was no wonder it had ended up in Hell. At least there wasn't blood to clear off this time.

"Do not worry, Hero," came the angel's voice again, the slightest twinge of mirth. "There is a path to the light, and so long as you walk it with virtuous intent, there is nothing to fear."

Her dark eyes gazed over, ruthless, and then back out onto the fortress. She smiled, and then to the almost-gone drink in hand.

"It is true," Tyreal said.

"I'm sure it is," she replied, through the grin.

The people out on the roof levels were milling about, some descending into the pits. She would be back out there, soon. Wondered how many of them she wouldn't ever see again.

"There is something you are wondering," the angel continued. "You may speak."

"You're creepy when you do that, you know."

"It is not hard to read God's creatures," he all but laughed.

"Don't smile at me! I don't know how but somehow I know you're smiling under there!"

The grin grew. Somehow, the wings glowed brighter when he did, a little longer, and little bit more intent on petting whatever human was nearby. "Speak, what is on your mind."

She gave him a long look, and the glowing fibers too, and then sighed, nodding. "This whole thing with Baal.... You don't seem like quite the normal angel, either."

There was a long pause, in which the air around Tyreal hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not," he replied eventually in his baritone voice. But he didn't add any more than that.

The sorceress glanced around quickly again, especially toward the sky area, before she finally let out a breath and fixed the black cowl with a harsh stare. I was worth it to know, if only one questioned. It took only one to cause all this mess, over and over again.

"You're the only one that has come to watch over us?"

He shook his head. "I did not fulfill my duties. I am still here to help acheive my mission," he said, a bit stiffly, a bit with a grimace. Whereever in the eons of space-time his face actually was.

ZIppy rolled her bottom lip and then looked out onto the plains, the endless, slightly rolling fires burning from the very ground itself. "You have trouble here, don't you?"

"We angels gain power by other heavenly beings, or by the faithful," Tyreal answered after a while. His wings continued their blue-glow slow wave, and he shifted slightly, the armor making a strange chiming sound. "You are wondering why I cannot defeat Diablo for you."

"It has to do with the balance, doesn't it? Something like that?"

"Heaven's balance. Ah, you are wise hero, wise! In general, yes. But specifically, I am just one. The faithful have much more power than I ever will, hero. You and your fellows are the ones written to do this, not I."

"I see," she said, glancing aside. "So who gave Bowser the one-up 'shroom?" she muttered.

Along one side of the rotunda, Cain stood, hunched and amused as ever in his blue-grey robes, looking over some nasty crossbow of her party's necromancer, who was decked out in strange bones and heads and...things. At least his skeletons hadn't followed them in this time, she'd need a lot more drinks before _that_ could stop mattering.

Cain hadn't ever seemed to mind. He tended to enjoy the enchantments a bit too much, in her opinion. Maybe he couldn't do it?

Come to think of it, she hadn't need of Cain's skills in a wihle, but every time she did, the squirrely old book-type had been hanging around with the angel currently hovering at her back.

Cain was old. And he wasn't the fighting type by his own admission, had probably never held a sword in his life but for the ones he gleefully considered when he identified their properties. If he actually knew the proper way to wield one, it would be more than half a surprise to her. So was it that being around Tyreal afforded him protection, strength? Or was there something more there?

"So,..." she said, her hands on her hips, "I heard you like to gossip. An angel that likes gossip, what is that about."

The bronzed helmet tipped slightly to the side. "What would you like to talk about, young one?"

"Tell me what you know of Deckard Cain."

"Deckard Cain?" Tyreal asked, looking at him curiously. "Do not worry for your friend, hero. The Horradrim of ancient have always been an ally of the forces of good. As the last of them, Deckard Cain is mine ot watch over. I will take good care of him."

Behind her, Cain chuckled, that almost giggly cackle of an amused old Ph.D.-type over another treasure.

"...I ... _see_," she said, that laugh still darting around her brain.

And ain't it grand that Cain had a one-way ticket to the good end, even though the only reason he was probably still alive was that he was the only one of an entire warrior culture that stayed inside and studied.

_Huh, I guess there's something to be learned there, hm?_

The angel just smiled, and this time, she wondered if she didn't see a slip of white, just like the wings, underneath his mask. "There is a path for each of us." Zippy turned out to the bloody vista. "And light at the end of each of them."

The sorceress nodded and, waving with the empty jug, walked to the gathering crowd below. By the communal war chest, she picked up her staff and stood at the edge of the way to Pandemonium. As the red light painted across stained armor, she wrote into her mind:

"All right, come on Skymancer, Skymanver, Super Manifesto, whatever the hell your name is. Soap_Bubble, MuffinTop, Awesome_Sauce8, Cool_Dude. I'm going out to the plains. Today is the day we take down Diablo for good."

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A/N: well there it is. I kind of like it. And I am pleased--something short and descriptive, well wrapped-up even though it's just a Conversation Story like mine often start out as. Please write a review if you can find the time. I wonder if Tyreal would bless you if you do? hee....

Also, I would like to know about the one-up thing. Does that take you out of it too much? Do you get that joke?

Thanks again,

Gani


End file.
